


You Bring Out the Worst In Me

by naaz



Category: Naruto
Genre: Age Difference, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Hair-pulling, M/M, Power Imbalance, this is gross these boys are gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naaz/pseuds/naaz
Summary: Long hair and bright red eyes that make his mind burn with some low, hungry hatred that Itachi has just poor enough self worth to let him indulge.





	

He wakes up to Itachi between his legs.

It's a rare treat, but not an unwelcome one. The younger man is poised between his legs after waking him from a half interesting dream, a haze of sensation. Lewd dreams are something that he's not had with any consistency in years now but when they do hit they leave him got with the ache for human interaction. That Itachi has taken it upon himself to indulge that need isn't something he's about to question.

But Itachi, for all the feigning that he's just like them is still too much of a gentleman to make assumptions.

His hand lingers on Obito's thigh, finger tips against the curve of a muscle and bright lips parted.

"Madara --- can I...?"

Obito responds with a roll of his eye and a hand coming to rest at the back of Itachi's neck, pulling him down with force. Only one of them shares that chivalry, Obito's fingers wrap in Itachi's hair and he's pulling him closer, eyes on bitten lips. 

Itachi's chin bumps his thigh before the boy is able to get back to a solid footing. Bless him though, he doesn't dally after that, pulling down the lycra pants that hug Obito's lower body. His cock's hard already, spurred on by Itachi's hovering. The younger man is his favorite for this sort of relief. Long hair and bright red eyes that make his mind burn with some low, hungry hatred that Itachi has just poor enough self worth to let him indulge.

The actual Madara would've scolded him for these weaknesses. Obito can't find it in himself to care as Itachi takes his cock in thin fingers, painted nails emphasized against his reddening skin.

"It sounded like a good dream," Itachi mumbles, dragging his nails against Obito's skin and pausing to gather the small amount of pre that had gathered at the older man's tip, spreading it back out over his head with interest.

Obito just makes a noise in response. Itachi seems to lose himself in thought and Obito pulls his hair hard enough, properly yanks it, hard enough that it earns Obito a pained gasp. Red eyes momentarily slide shut and Itachi's teeth grit. A hand instinctively comes to protest Obito's hold but Itachi reigns the reflex in the same like his hips press into the bed. Yes, Obito knows how Itachi works by this point. Devalue him enough and he gets off on it too.

"You woke me, so do your job," Obito says back. It's Madara's deep voice, even without his mask on, that comes out his lips. 

The entire relations is based on lies, it doesn't matter to Obito to keep one more.

Itachi's lips part as he lowers himself, red lips the first to press against Obito's tip. His movements are careful, deliberate, but not slow enough to raise Obito's ire. He's not above the risk to himself if it means a reason to discipline Itachi, take some other part of his complex emotions out on one of the last of clan.

Head doesn't last long because of it. There's a balance to be struck of too much and too little and Itachi errs on the side of too much.

Tongue flat to the underside of his cock, Obito presses his shoulders back, rolling his head against his pillow. Itachi's got a good tongue, working against abandoned flesh as works towards taking most of the other man inside his mouth.

Briefly Obito plays with the idea of forcing him down but early loses of patience are best spared for later when Itachi is too far gone to care. Liberties taken too soon can and will make the younger man leave, though it's happened very rarely.

He moves onto his elbows to watch as Itachi works. A sight for sore eyes with most of his hair pulled out of his face by Obito's firm grip on his hair. He can feel the tension in Itachi's scalp as he holds tighter still, seeing the flinch, hearing the moan a moment later. A little twist of Itachi's hips is confirmation again, and Obito restrains the throaty little laugh that seeks to weasel it's way out.

"Fuck," Obito gasps as he feels Itachi bottom out. Those red lips are nestled against his crop of dark pubic hair, Itachi's fists balled against Obito's thighs.

"You can undress yourself, slut," Obito says a moment later. It's as much a demand as an offer. The slur is sharp, intentioned, he enjoys the way that shame flashes through Itachi's eyes as he pulls back off Obito's cock. "You don't have to deny that you're enjoying what you do. No one believes the act." His voice dips in accusation, saying one thing, meaning it and so much more. All that Itachi is an act. This is possibly the most honest Obito ever sees him.

The same can be said for Obito.

Itachi enjoys this, Obito is positive of that. He has to pull away minutely to kick his his loose sleep pants off and Itachi's undeniably hard. Trial and error, maybe a little bit of training, Itachi's hardly unwilling to keep perpetuating his cycle of use.

His lips can't be back on Obito soon enough. Their slow set pace is enough to drag Obito to agony and that seems to be the intention as well, lingering along the thick vein at the underside of his cock and making a show of the way his lips pop off of Obito's tip.

Obito dissolves into low, angry sounds and muttered curses as he draws closer to the finish. 

His fist is firm at Itachi's neck neck there's a moment of pause before he yanks him down hard. A gasp, a stuttered cry, the partial closing of one of his eyes as he braces himself against Obito's thighs. Nails dig into the older man's skin and Itachi chokes so prettily around him. His lips open too wide and Obito can see the panic. The muscles of his throat flutter against Obito's cock before he can yank himself back off, sputtering and coughing.

There are tears in Itachi's eyes but no protest, the resentment only there because Itachi feels it has to be. The younger man catches his breath and after a pointed look presses his lips back to Obito's flesh. He looks only slightly more skittish.

"Now boy, don't pretend you have dignity left. I told you, I don't believe the act. I could tell you to choke _yourself_ on my cock and I think you'd crawl across broken glass to make it happen."

Exaggeration, but it works. Itachi's eyelashes bat closed and he wraps his lips back around Obtio's cock. There's a moment that he visibly braces himself and Obito seizes it. 

Instead of violence he slowly guides Itachi back down, feeling lips spread wider and the burn of sharingan eyes against his skin. He keeps him there. The shift of Obito's hips and the forced movement of Itachi's head are all that changes. Obito throat fucks him long after the feeling would have gotten uncomfortable, and the last of his breath gone. It forced Itachi into uneven breathing through his nose until Obito's other hand lifted, clamping on Itachi's nose in what's clearly a practiced motion.

The progression draws his orgasm closer, and closer. Watching discomfort to natural panic, the struggle to pull his head back and Obito's firm grip rebuking him. 

There's a moment that his chest seems to clench as Itachi's response grows more frantic. That's the moment that Obito cums, stuttered curse on his lips as he pulls his cock from deep in Itachi's throat. He wants to splatter himself against that perfect skin. A delayed reaction means he really only gets so far as Itachi's lips, the tip of his cock lingering against plush flesh.

His hand in Itachi's hair loosens, lets go completely to let Itachi have a moment. Those sharp red eyes have dulled. Lashes have turned to spider's legs dancing over Itachi's cheeks, matted together with tears.

 _Fuck,_ he's beautiful.

To think, something so regal of the Uchiha would look so good with a cock between his lips.

"You okay?"

"Mmmm," is Itachi's only response, hand against his forehead as he seems to catch up with himself.

There's a moment of fondness that wells in Obito's chest and before he can stop himself he's shifting to catch Itachi's lips. His fingers spread, webs against Itachi's cheeks as he pulls the younger man in close. Confusing, conflicted emotions. This dark spot in his chest holds affection as well no matter how much he might try to squash it. Itachi kisses back. His lips taste of Obito's cum.

Obito purrs against him, he moves to sit and coerces Itachi to straddle his thighs.

"Are you okay?" Obito asks again.

He tells himself it's because some things are too valuable to the organization to break.

This time Itachi nods, that haze still in his eyes as he mutters his 'yes' and his tongue darts over his lower lip.

"Fuck me," are the first words out of Itachi's sore throat.

The moment of concern is forgotten as Itachi's hands rest on Obito's shoulders. He doesn't question the difference in the texture of his skin. He doesn't --- seem to balk at it, or mind. The hunger in his eyes is wonderfully base, distilled to something that Obito understands and reignites the same hunger in himself.

"Of course I'm going to fuck you," he mutters. Obito sounds almost fond, as though he's humoring the other man. Sharingan eye to sharingan eyes. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you're useless tomorrow. So deep that Kisame will have to carry you out of Ame. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Itachi's breath drew shallow, eyes dark.

"Such a pretty boy. So restrained. But you'll beg to be treated like a whore..."

"Madara..."

Obito's eyes flit down to Itachi's swollen lips and back up. A tilt of his head is all the permission to speak that he gives.

"Please fuck me," his nails dig into Obito's shoulders and the older man hisses, taking hold of Itachi's hair again. 

He tilts his face back back, exposing the pale expanse of his neck and digging his teeth into the skin. The pressure starts gentle and builds until Itachi's breath catches, harder still a moment later until Obito can feel the skin break until his teeth. It's not clean or precise. When Obito pulls away to look at what he's done it's with the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, two crescents, angry and bleeding, and something close to ecstasy on Itachi's face, earnest moan on his lips.

"Patience."

**Author's Note:**

> Tentatively the first in the 'Itachi fucks his way across the Akatsuki' because I need to make myself feel better about being gross.


End file.
